As the food was excellent and the conversation interesting, not to say necessary—for Prelice as a newly returned traveller required much posting-up in recent scandals—nephew and aunt lingered for a considerable time at table. When the meal was ended Prelice preferred to accompany Lady Sophia to the drawing-room, instead of remaining solitary over Haken's famous port. They had half-an-hour left for coffee, and then Lady Sophia would have to start out on her round of festivals.
"You ought to come with me, Prelice," she said later, as he helped her on with her cloak; "everyone thinks that you are dead."
"Well, aunt, you would not have much pleasure in taking a corpse about with you. Besides, I promised to look up Ned this evening."
"No doubt, and he'll be at that woman's ball. Most indecent, seeing that poor Mona is in gaol."
"Ned isn't such a blighter," cried Prelice crossly.
"I never called him a blighter, whatever that may mean," retorted Lady Sophia with great dignity. "Mr. Shepworth is an estimable young man, whom you would do well to imitate."
"I intend to. He and I are going to save Miss Chent."
"How horrid; you'll be a kind of detective."
Prelice nodded. "It's something to do."
"As if you required anything to do with your rank and money."